So My Not-So-Little Man, You’re Going to School

17th April 2018

My Dearest Reuben,

I, like so many other parents spent yesterday on tender hooks. Waiting to receive ‘the email’ that would tell me what school you would be going to. Well I didn’t wait for the email, you will learn this of me, I am impatient. About everything, but mostly things that involve you! I kept checking in on the website to see if the admission had been released.

You may be thinking, big deal? Why the worry Mummy? I worried for many reasons, some I’ve spoken about before, others I haven’t. But it is a parents job to worry, it is MY job to worry. My biggest worry is if you’ll like the school. One of the schools we spent so long selecting. Are you going to be happy there? Will you make friends? Or, will you turn to me one day and tell me you hated every minute of it? I worry.

After a sleepless night and six hours of waiting the admission came up on my screen. Second choice. My initial feeling was disappointment. You hadn’t got our first choice. But it was misplaced disappointment. You had our second choice. A school ten miles from where we lived. Out of our catchment area completely (that will mean nothing to you until you have children). We were lucky. You would be at the same school as Little Miss L and you would love that.

When I came to get you from pre-school today you came rushing up to me as you always do. So excited to see us and tell us about your day. You had made a Batman mask for your friend. He was so happy you gave it to him. I told you that we had been told what school you would go to. A name means nothing to you. Telling you it’s the same school as Little Miss L made you literally squeal with delight. It was more than I could have hoped for. That’s genuine excitement.

I don’t know if it is because the schools have been announced that I perhaps looked at you in a different way. But you seemed older. The way you said “That’s OK Mummy, pass it here you have your hands full” or the way you went to the fridge and opened the door to get the apple juice out. Without needing a chair. I don’t know, maybe I’m hormonal, in denial. Who knows. But, yesterday I just wanted to swoop you up in my arms and beg you to stop growing. Stay little forever. Forget this silly going to school nonsense.

When Daddy came home you told him the school you were going to, same excitement in your voice. I know that made Daddy feel better too. Your excitement is infectious and it has a way of calming our nerves.

Whilst I worry every day, I’m also so very excited for you. You’re about to start your next adventure. A big adventure that will go on for many, many years. I cannot wait to see you flourish, I know you will. But remember this, no matter how big you get you will always be my baby boy.